Lies, Damn Lies & Statistics
by Adalind
Summary: There are Three Types of Lies: Lies, Damn Lies & Statistics. Sequal to AFILAW. AU Ranger story involving terrorists, guns, double crossing and a bucket load of angst.
1. Chapter 1

**This is a direct follow on from All's Fair in Love and War, I suggest you read that story first for this one to make any sense.**

**I'm going to be flat out honest here – this is a Ranger AU story, and does not feature Steph. If you think this will be a problem, hit the back button now. Just to clarify – this story deals with the peace process in Ireland/Northern Ireland and all views expressed by my characters are in no way a reflection of my own. The IRA do exist, but the Extreme IRA are a figment of my imagination and the events contained herein are fiction.**

**This story is of an adult nature and touches on terrorism, gun running, rape and drug abuse – if you believe that you will be offended by any of this, hit the back button. If you start to read and decide that you don't like this story, again, hit the back button. For the remaining few – enjoy.**

**Thanks as always to my beta, Trish for Americanizing my ass and helping me get this into order. And thanks to Stayce for all you help with Rafe. **

* * *

**There are three types of lies: 'Lies, Damn Lies & Statistics'**

**Chapter One**

My secure cell suddenly began to vibrate its way across the top of my oak desk, dragging my attention away from the mounds of paperwork I was looking through. The caller ID read unknown, so I flipped the accursed thing open and hit talk, yet remained silent – it never hurt to be cautious.

"It's me," an English accent stated.

"The guy from Hereford" I said, referring to the home base of the British SAS, and the old unit of the man that was on the other end of the phone. Interesting, I wasn't expecting to hear from Winter so soon. It had only been six weeks since he and Danny disappeared into the Miami sunset.

"The one and the same. Got a bit of a problem, need your help," he whispered cautiously.

"Grey?"

Winter laughed quietly. "Nah, blacker than black, man. Ten foot barge pole territory and we're neck deep, sinking fast."

"Right. Can you talk on this line?" I quizzed, worried by his hushed tones.

"Yeah, I'm just not in the most secure of environments right this second. I won't give you the full SITREP, just in case."

"Nutshell version?" I asked.

Winter sighed. "We're involved in the shipping of certain 'goods' and one of my crew got busted. Some fucker set us up and naffed off with the cash and the gear, leaving us wanted by the authorities, and our now cashless buyer wants a piece of us too. We need to break my guy out of jail, work out who in God's name has set us up, and then fix this mess. Interested?"

"Maybe," I replied. "Can I bring some friends to this party, or is this a solo invite?"

"You bring them, you have to vouch for them; other than that, the more the merrier. I've got an acquaintance heading your way tomorrow; he can give you a lift if you like. Means you can bring whatever cool toys you fancy."

"Okay, I'll talk to a couple of people. Give me a call back in an hour or so?"

"Sure," Winter responded. "I'll get the girl to send you an email."

"She okay?" I quizzed, we were all worried about Bailey, especially Lester.

"She's quiet, but dealing, sort of. Not been here that long actually."

"Yeah, she sent me a postcard, seems that I paid for her vacation," I said wryly.

Winter laughed. "So she tells me. Look, I gotta go man, I'll talk to you again later."

"No worries." I was talking to the empty airwaves as Winter had already hung up.

Interesting, I mused. I wonder what fucked up, illegal shit Winter and his crew were mixed up in this week. Knowing what I did about them, I suspected that the merchandise was guns or munitions. The buyer could be anyone and they could be anywhere in the world right now. Risky, and also black and decidedly dirty, so did I want to touch this?

My computer beeped, signaling a new email, and I clicked it open: Job details from Bailey. They were in Ireland, running guns and explosives for The Extreme IRA. God damn, that was some nasty shit, and a major moral dilemma to boot. Despite a cease fire, there were still terrorist organizations in Ireland that wanted a United Ireland, freeing the northern counties from English rule. Kind of like Cuba, I mused, but not quite.

I'd talk to my team and see what they thought. I still owed Winter for all his help with my last Op, so I guess if I took this job it would clear my debt to him and Danny.

* * *

"Well?" I asked, as I looked at the three men sitting in front of me in my office.

Tank shrugged noncommittally, "It's shady, Ric, fucking shady. We'd be in serious shit if we got caught."

Lester chewed on his lower lip, and idly wove his long braid of light brown hair through his fingers. "Maybe - could be fun. Running from the cops, breaking someone out of jail, and keeping one step ahead of some Irish terrorists. What do you think, Bobby?"

Some things never changed. Where Santos went, so did Bobby and vice versa. I glanced at Bobby; he was more toned than he'd been a few weeks ago. As he'd kicked the Prozac he'd chosen lifting weights instead as a stress reliever. It was nice to finally see him off that stuff.

"Abso-fucking-lutely crazy idea," he muttered as he glanced at his partner. "I'd rather cut my own balls off."

Lester bit back a grin at Bobby's response. "Looks like a no then, Ric."

"You aren't planning on going are you, Ric?" Tank questioned.

"I owe Winter for his help last month. This is the least I can do for him, besides I can see how Lee's holding up while I'm at it."

Lester shifted in his seat and Bobby raised an eyebrow when I mentioned Lee's name. I knew that would get a reaction out of them. After Bailey vanished in Miami, Lester went on a three day vodka bender. As suddenly as he started, he stopped, pulling himself together again. He was dealing with his past rather than trying to bury it, and the man I once knew was slowly returning. Yet that didn't mean that he wasn't still hung up on a certain green-eyed, raven haired, young Irish girl.

Besides, I didn't want to run this job solo and I knew that using Bailey as bait for Les would make him interested. Bobby would follow him blindly out of habit, and then Tank would come too, as he wouldn't want to miss out on the fun. It was all about leverage.

"When would we need to leave?" Lester asked. His face was blank, but his blue eyes betrayed his emotions. He wanted to see Bailey.

"Tomorrow, and Winter suggested that we catch a lift from a friend of his."

"And Rangeman Trenton?" Tank demanded. "Who you wanting to leave in charge this time?"

Tank's attitude caught me off guard and I glared at him, tempering my anger at the harsh comment he'd made. "I'll call Bones or Snake in from Boston."

"And the rest, Ric?" Tank growled. "We're still four men short. You know as well as I do that we haven't gotten replacements for Vince and Woody or those two fucking traitors yet. If we leave as well, we'll be eight men down."

"I'll put one of the Boston guys in charge and move two in from Atlanta. Mac is still talking about a transfer up here from Miami; he's more than capable to 2IC to Snake or Bones. So we're all replaced, and we've been running fine with the three teams of ten and only two cover so far. Another couple of weeks of operating at slightly less than full strength won't do us any harm," I explained succinctly.

Lester made eye contact with me. "I'm in."

I looked at his partner.

"Fuck it, why the hell not," Bobby said with a heavy sigh.

Two down, one to go. "Tank?"

Tank scrubbed his hands over his face. "Ric, man – I just can't, not after last month. I'm not putting Lula through that again so soon."

I rested my elbows upon my desk, steepling my fingers in front of my face and propping my chin on my thumbs. I stared at Tank. My gaze didn't waver, nor did I blink. My own partner had been keeping his feelings from me ever since we returned from Miami, and it was about time he sorted out his emotional baggage and faced me.

"Damn it Ric, don't make me do this."

I raised an eyebrow and bit my tongue.

"We nearly fucking died out there, brother! I'm too old for this shit. We're free, you're free, and what do you do at the first given opportunity? Run off to the next god damn, fucked up crisis. Do you get a buzz out of playing hero?" Tank spat.

I shoved my chair back and roughly jerked Tank out of his seat by the front of his t-shirt. No mean feat. Anger rolled off me in waves, my free hand clenched into a fist of its own volition, and it took all my strength and self control not to launch it at his face. "So much blood, pain, horror and death, and you ask me if I enjoy playing hero?!" I snarled. "If I was a fucking hero, Tank, no one would get hurt. The good guys would win and the bad guys would lose, and we'd all come back home in one piece.

I squeezed my eyes tight shut and images of my fallen comrades swirled in my head, taunting me, telling me that I wasn't good enough to save them.

"I am not a hero," I continued as I opened my eyes again, "far fucking from it. I have to face each day with the knowledge that often through no fault of my own, men under my command died or suffered. So spare me your crap, man."

"Ric," Lester soothed as he placed a gentle hand on my arm. "Let Tank go. He can stay here, cousin. Me and Bobby'll go with you. Maybe Mac, Bones or Snake can come along instead, what do you think?"

I released Tank from my white-knuckled grip and went for the bottle of Jack in my desk drawer. It wouldn't make the images go away forever but it would push them down far enough for me to deal right now.

"No, the three of us will go," I said. "Winter has a guy coming too, so we should have enough men. I don't want anyone with me who doesn't want to be there. In fact, the two of you can stay here if you wish; I'm not going to force you. I don't want your blood on my hands if anything happens to either of you."

Les smiled a rare smile. "Brother, I can't have you running off to the middle of nowhere without anyone to watch your back. And stop holding yourself responsible for the shit that's gone down. Trust me, I've been beating myself up for the past eight years, and I'm not gonna pull myself out of this funk I've been in, just to see you take my place. Shit happens, man-"

"And life sucks. And at the end of the day, all's fair in love and war," I quoted bitterly, taking another swig of Jack and reciting Winter's parting shot in Miami.

"Pretty much Ric, pretty much," Lester grinned.

Tank stood up and paced in front of my desk. "I'm sorry, man, but I can't do it. I've got too much to live for right now. I'll hold the fort along with anyone you want to call in, that's the best I can offer."

"Okay, Tank. You stay put and I'll call up Mac, and also ask Phil to send me two men from Atlanta," I responded as I handed him the bottle of whisky.

Tank pulled me into a hug. "Ahh fuck, Rangeman – I just don't want to lose you to someone else's battle."

* * *

The four of us sat in the SUV, awaiting the arrival of the plane at the small airstrip about an hour west of Trenton. It was the best choice for an inconspicuous landing and takeoff around here.

The truck was piled high with crates. We had guns, ammo, explosives, tracking equipment and a large assortment of hi-tech covert toys. Only the best for Rangeman LLC.

Bobby checked his watch again and on cue, a small Hawker jet came into view over the landing strip, touching down a minute later. The plane taxied to a stop by the refueling tanks and the pilot stepped down from the craft. He thoroughly scanned the area for threats, hand resting near what I assumed to be the butt of his gun at the small of his back, and when he seemed satisfied, his gaze settled on our truck.

Standing 6' 4'', with dark brown hair in a loose pony tail that trailed to his waist, strong cheek bones and skin the color of milky coffee, he was apparently the guy we were waiting for. Raphael Langlinais – Sauvage, Rafe for short, or if you wanted to hire him for a job, simply, Savage. I was well acquainted with Rafael's reputation. He was a deadly, highly trained mercenary whose reputation was on a par, if not above with that of Darkness and Jaguar in the America's, and Frost, Fox and Shade in Europe, the Eastern Block and the Balkans. The man was a fucking living legend in the world of mercenaries.

Who'd have thought that I would be working with so many top notch mercs these days? I thought back to the stoned conversation I'd had with Danny and Bailey in Hermitage. Maybe they were right, The Cuban did need a new name, though I really didn't have a clue what to pick. I suppose it could pick itself when the time was right.

I slid from the truck, Les and Bobby stepping out behind me, flanking me. Their positioning told Raphael just who was in charge in our little group and that my men had my back.

"Ricardo Manoso?" he purred in a thick Cajun accent as he stepped up to meet us, shoving his mirrored shades onto his head, revealing deep chocolate brown eyes flecked with amber.

I nodded curtly and offered him my hand. "Ranger."

He accepted my handshake with a firm but a not too overkill grip, and smiled. "Ranger it is. Please, call me Rafe, as I believe we are working with mutual friends here."

"So it seems," I answered. "Though I am curious as to how you know the Hereford boys."

I couldn't decide whether to call Winter by his name or his code name, so settled with describing him and his crew en masse.

"Contacts, jobs, you know how it is," Rafe said with a shrug and a casual wave of his hand. "Only Santos and Brown coming with you? I was expecting Tank as well."

Rafael was trying to un-nerve me by naming my men and second guessing my actions. I wasn't going to let him get to me. "Plans change, stuff comes up, you know how it is," I countered coolly.

Raphael let out a bark of laughter. "And to think I did not believe Danny when he said you had a sense of humor. Excellent! I think we are going to get along fine mon ami."

He looked behind me at Les and Bobby, nodding briefly at Lester and studying Bobby for a beat or too longer than his partner, eventually nodding in his direction also.

Les nodded back curtly, and Bobby stared at Rafe, meeting his piercing gaze until Lester nudged his partner in the ribs. Bobby blushed as much as a black man could, and looked away hurriedly. Very interesting. I'd always wondered about Bobby's sexuality and that little display was most insightful. Maybe I need to mimic Winter, and bring in a no sex on missions policy.

Tank stepped out of the truck and popped the tailgate open, heaving the first of eight crates out of the back with ease.

"Planning on taking over the country while we are there?" Rafe quizzed, a slight grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

I ignored his comment, and Lester and I grabbed the next case.

Bobby stood to the side looking slightly lost until Rafe sidled up to him.

He looked down at Bobby and smiled, flashing dimples. "Shall we, mon ami?" he said huskily.

Bobby swallowed and licked his lips nervously, Rafe watching his every move closely. "Sure," he whispered finally.

"Christ," Lester muttered as we moved towards the plane, "You want me to throw a bucket of cold water over those two?"

I shook my head. "I think they can contain themselves."

"Yeah, but for how long?" Les murmured. "Rafael looks like he wants to rip Bobby's clothes off and do him right here on the tarmac."

I raised an eyebrow and Lester chuckled.

"Bobby's gay?" I asked. Well, that was news to me.

Lester rolled his eyes "I thought it was bloody obvious, Ric."

"You knew?"

Les shrugged, "He's my best friend, of course I knew, Ric."

"I can't believe that I never noticed."

"Not really anyone's business but his own, man. But you're usually too far up your own ass to notice anything that goes on in the office anyway."

"That's not true," I muttered.

"Oh please, cousin," Lester laughed. "For the last few years you've either been on jobs for Uncle Sam, shacked up in Boston, or mooning over The Bombshell. Unless your life was in immediate danger you didn't notice a damn thing."

"That bad?" I asked tentatively. I could handle the truth – I think.

Les nodded. "Another planet most of the time, Ric. Work or chicks."

"And now I guess it's just work," I grumbled bitterly.

"Yeah, get your own girl," Lester teased. "The Irish one's mine."

I snorted. "I wouldn't let her hear you say that, she'd cut your nuts off."

Lester winced. "Shit, yeah. I'll rephrase that, shall I? I have my sights set on a certain, delightful Irish woman, and with her agreement, I'd like to pursue a relationship with her."

"Better," I teased. "Still, I'm not sure you can handle her…"

"Oh fuck you, man," my cousin laughed. "And you weren't wrapped around her little finger?"

"We had an understanding," I said.

"Right," Lester chuckled.

As we were finishing up, Tank pulled me to one side, shoving his shades atop of his bald head and crossing his arms over his barrel of a chest. "You sure you know what you're doing, Ric?"

I tried to maintain my blank face, but a smile tugged at the corner of my mouth, so I gave into it and grinned at him. "Nope, not really."

Tank closed his eyes, and I was pretty sure he was counting to ten to calm his nerves.

"I could lie to you, if that makes you feel better," I suggested.

He opened his eyes again and sighed. "Promise me that you'll call if you need help, even if it's just for the name of a good lawyer to dig you out of the shit you could end up landing in."

"Sure," I responded glibly. Tank had the mother hen routine down to a fine art today. It was nice to know that he cared, but it was making me a little crazy.

"Ricardo," he growled, "What is with you today? You steal Danny's stash or something?"

I laughed. "Tank, I'm fine. Just keyed up for this job."

"Yeah, well you don't normally act this way before you go on a mission. You're usual MO is to slink off to Boston for a couple of days - though I guess that's not part of the equation anymore, right?"

Yeah, thanks for dredging up that crap, man. What is it with my crew today? "I'm used to the government telling me who, what, when and where, so it's nice to do something on my own terms for a change. I didn't have to take this job Tank, but I chose to. It's my choice here, man."

"And you still don't have to take it either, Ric," Tank muttered.

"Just what is your problem, Tank?" I pressed. What the hell was eating at him? It had to be more than just the nature of the job.

Tank shook his head sadly. "I've known you since basic, man, and the man I met back then wouldn't be getting involved in this sort of shit. Something's changed, Ric. You've changed, and I'm not sure that I like it. You spent so much time dedicated to cleaning up scum like Raphael, Winter and Danny, and as soon as you're free and clear of the government, you step on up to help them out. Did spending four years fucking Bailey change your moral code or something, brother?"

"You worked with her and she didn't change your moral code," I growled.

"Yeah, but I didn't spend that much time with her," he countered.

"If it wasn't for her and her contacts, I'd be dead by now, Tank. I'd have been shot dead by some Russians and the Nevis brothers would have taken over my business. You saw what they did to my offices. They killed my men, for Christ sake! And all because of some stupid personal vendetta!

"Bailey put her life on the line to help me, got us into the Trenton offices in time to save Stephanie and picked up on the whole Russian thing. She got raped! Winter and Danny gave their time and resources for free to help us out and Jer and Kelly dealt with Richmond Nevis. What more would you have them do, man? We needed their help and you know it.

"Is that why you won't take this job, because you don't like the morals of the people that we're working for? Get over yourself Tank, how many dope heads could have died at your hand, and you didn't give a shit! Are you afraid of who you are, what you are becoming?"

"Fuck you, man!" he shot back. "I know right from god damn wrong."

"Are you saying that I don't anymore, Tank?"

Tank turned his back on me and walked away. Stopping about six feet from me, he glanced back over his shoulder. "I don't know what you think anymore, and that's God's honest truth, Ricardo. But I know that you're on the path of self destruction. I've seen how many dangerous bastards you've dragged in over the last few weeks single handed, makes me think you've got a death wish.

"You always had a strong moral code, but that changed when you met Bailey. Sometimes I wish that you'd just turned her in like the rest of that scum. She must have put out right from the start to win you over like that. Did she just spread her legs when you walked into her motel room in Phoenix?"

Tank turned around again and walked smack into Lester.

Lester was scowling and his fists were clenched. "I'd watch your mouth if I were you, Pierre."

"Fuck off, Lester," he spat.

"Just what is your fucking problem, man?" He shoved Tank hard in the chest, making the bigger guy take a step backwards. "You worked fine with them last month, and you got blood on your hands like the rest of us. Why the fuck do you think you have the ethical high ground here?"

"Enough!" I shoved myself between my cousin and my supposed best friend. "Tank, get in the truck, I'll call you when we get settled. Les, get on the damn plane, we need to get out of here."

Tank stepped away, glaring at us both. "I'm telling you both now that this will end in tears, but go ahead and have your fun. Just don't come crying to me to fix things when it fucks up."

Lester opened his mouth to no doubt give Tank some sort of snide reply, but I silenced him by squeezing his shoulder hard.

Tank hauled himself into the truck, gunned the engine and tore off, spraying gravel and dust behind him.

"Just what the fuck has crawled up his ass and died?" Les muttered as he brushed the sand colored dust off his black tank top and olive fatigues.

I shrugged. "No idea."

"You sure?" Lester gave me a hard stare.

I nodded, "Yeah, not a god damn clue, man."

Rafael walked over and looked between the two of us. "You two finished now?"

Lester rolled his eyes and brushed past him, clambering into the jet.

Rafe cocked his head. "Problems?"

I shook my head and shut my emotions down. "No, everything is fine, Rafael."

He raised an eyebrow, but had the sense not to push the issue.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks to my wonderful beta, Trish for hitting this with a stick. You were right about that last scene, you know babe. Thank you for your valuable insights and thoughts.**

* * *

**There are Three Types of Lies: Lies, Damn Lies & Statistics**

**Chapter Two**

The plane touched down at Coonagh airfield, County Limerick in the Republic of Ireland, just as the sun was setting. We could have been anywhere; as far as I could tell there was zilch to indicate where on earth we were. I'd just have to trust Rafe and his information. Peering out of the window as we taxied to a stop, I took in nothing but a short row of small and medium sized planes, a large pre-fab garage masquerading as the hanger, and a black Land Rover Defender with checker plating, tow pack, roof spots, raised suspension and a snorkel, parked up next to a black Ducati Monster. Guess we'd got the right place after all.

Rafe cut the engines and rolled his neck and shoulders to ease the kinks and knots out of them. He looked around at us and smiled. "End of the road guys."

We piled out onto the tarmac and Bobby offered up a swift prayer for getting him here in one piece. He'd been as sick as a dog for the first half of the journey, because the smaller the plane, the more ill he was.

Two figures in black – one in bike leathers, and one in fatigues and a long sleeved tee - slid from the SUV. Danny and someone I didn't recognize.

Danny lit a cigarette, cracked his usual tight smile, and strode over. "Hey guys, good flight?"

The younger guy, a gangly, pimpled late-teen, pushed past Danny and held out his hand before any of us could respond. "I can't believe that you're all here," he gushed. "I've heard so much about you and it's a pleasure to meet -"

Danny smacked him around the back of the head. "That's it, just put your effing foot in your gob, why don't you, Wesley. Go sit in the bloody truck, you twit. Sorry about that guys, we just can't get the staff these days."

Les shook his head. "Who the hell was that, the summer intern?"

Danny rolled his eyes. "Warwick's kid brother. Pain in the fucking arse, man. Shall we get loaded up? I don't want to hang around here any longer than I have to, low profile and all that.

We made short work of transferring the gear, and Rafe parked the plane in line with the others. He ripped off the American markings on the fuselage that were cleverly printed onto vinyl stickers, to reveal what looked like Irish I.D underneath. To the casual observer it didn't look out of place with the rest. Smart man.

"How far is it to base?" Bobby asked Danny.

"About fifty miles or so," he responded. "If we hurry, there might be some dinner left. I'm so glad you guys turned up, Winter is going postal over this fucking mess, Billy can't do strategy to save his life, and Lee's about as much use as a chocolate frog at the moment. Someone needs to do something."

Shit, this sounded bad. "I thought Winter had a vague idea as to what was going on?"

I studied Danny closely. Underneath his brash exterior, he looked dead on his feet. He scrubbed his hands over his face and tucked his hair behind his heavily pierced ears. "Yeah, vague is the right word at the moment. We're under pressure from so many different directions and getting no answers from any quarter. I'm hoping that fresh eyes on this job can pick up on something that we've missed."

Rafe squeezed Danny's arm. "Merde, it is that bad?"

"Yeah. Look Wesley can travel with you lot, I'm not in the mood to deal with him right now. Anyone want to ride pillion?"

Bobby still looked green, Rafe was tired, and I had no desire to ride with Danny. I'd seen firsthand in Scotland the speeds he got up to, so I glanced over at Lester.

"You got spare gear, man?" Les asked as he began to tightly braid his long hair to stop it getting snarled up in the wind. As I'd suspected, he was up for it.

"Crash helmet and my spare leather suffice?"

"That'll do. Hey, can I drive?"

Danny shook his head. "No way, man. That baby belongs to Lee, she didn't want me to take it in the first place."

Lester just couldn't hold back his question any longer. "How's she doing?"

Danny shrugged and passed his extra stuff to Les. "Moody, quiet, no sense of humor, quick tempered and prone to sporadic outbursts of violence."

"Same as always then," I said with a snort.

Danny rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but quadruple it and you're still nowhere close. I love that girl to bits, and I know what she went through, but she's doing nothing to rectify the situation. She nearly shot Winter when he suggested that she go for counseling. Stubborn as a fucking mule, and it's eating her up inside. She's no use to anyone right now – can't concentrate, no attention span. Spends most of her time self medicating with my home-grown skunk and necking Jameson's by the bottle. I'm really worried about her."

Lester looked pale. "Can she even talk about _it_?"

"Won't talk to anyone about anything, let alone talk about what happened in Scotland. Shit, she's not even on this planet most of the time, and when she is, it's best just to avoid her."

"Fuck, I thought she was doing okay. I mean she sent me that email, so I just guessed that she was dealing with stuff." This situation was turning FUBAR'd fast, I decided.

"Pah, Winter caught her sober for five minutes. If she knocked all that crap on the head we'd probably have a lead by now. Hasn't turned her computer back on since she sent you that Intel."

Bobby looked pretty concerned – hell we all did. He fingered the black beads at the end of one of his corn rows and cocked his head. Thinking mode - Bobby style. "Have you tried drying her out?"

Danny's eyes went wide and he shook his head. "No. And that's not going to happen. Right now she's stoned and drunk, if we try to dry her out, there is no telling what she'll attempt to get her hands on. I've seen her smacked out of her mind, and it ain't pretty, let me tell you."

"Smack? Oh god," Les gasped. The poor guy looked sick.

Danny met my gaze and lit another cigarette. "Of course, she left that bit of info out of her life story back in Missouri. She was a thief and a junkie when we first met her. She was in a bad place ten years ago, but she's in a worse place now. Fucked if I know what to do. Well anyways, welcome to Ireland guys, and one huge fucked up mess. Winter's strung out on caffeine, Warwick is in jail, Billy's being a twat as usual, Lee's a basket case, Wesley is an irritating muppet, and I'm smoking forty a day. To top it off, every man and his fucking dog wants our arse kicked or dead. So I hope to hell you lot brought both a sense of humor and a lot of ammo, 'cos I swear to god that you're gonna need it.

* * *

Just over an hour later we passed through the small village of Castle Cove on the south coast and turned up a rutted dirt track. About a mile later we pulled up at what looked like a large abandoned barn. The old double doors were open and Wesley steered the truck inside, parking it alongside a Mitsubishi Warrior and Lee's bike.

Thank god it didn't take any longer to get here; I was ready to shoot that damn kid. Wesley had talked nonstop all the way from the airfield. How many missions had we been on? How many men had we killed? Had we ever been shot? On and on it went, despite the three of us ignoring him. I was sure that even Rafe was contemplating taking him out, and Rafe's reputation was of a pretty cool and calm guy.

As soon as the Land Rover rolled to a stop, we grabbed our duffles and fled to the safety of an open door at the far end, leaving the kid – who couldn't be a day over twenty - to deal with everything else. Selfish, and possibly slightly stupid, but we were beyond caring.

The doorway gave way to stairs going up to the top floor of the barn. This was a clever set up, as to the casual observer, this place looked like it was about to fall down. The ground floor could house the vehicles and I suspected the upstairs contained the living area. There were no windows, but that was a small price to pay for a secret hide out. Winter never failed to surprise me, and I knew he must have been partly responsible for Bailey's paranoia and a strong penchant for escape plans for any given situation.

The kitchen and dining area led off the main door, and Lester and Danny were already settled at the table drinking coffee. Winter was clanging pans around in the kitchen and grumbling under his breath. He looked up as we walked in, and for a brief second a look of relief flashed over his face, but it was gone as swiftly as it appeared.

"You missed dinner, toast okay?" he asked as he wiped his hands on a dish towel.

We all nodded and pulled up chairs at the oak table, Bobby reaching for the pot of coffee as soon as his ass hit the seat.

I looked around the rest of the upstairs that I could see. A small sectional in black leather, and an entertainment system was on the left, and on the right, through an open door, I could see a tiny bath. I suspected that the rest of the living quarters were small bedrooms and possibly a war room.

A door slammed open down the far end, and a guy as bald as, and the same weight as Tank, but nearly a foot shorter and Caucasian stomped up the corridor. His icy gaze swept over us, nodding his head briefly at Rafe, ignoring the rest of us. He drained the last of the coffee from the pot, left his drink black, and stomped away again.

Danny dropped his head to the table top and sighed. "For those of you who've not met him, that was Billy. I'd apologize for his behavior, but I really can't be arsed."

Winter dumped a plated loaded with slightly burnt toast in front of us, rummaged in the fridge for a second, tossing a half eaten packet of butter on the table, and finally deposited a jar of jam next to it. He flicked the kettle on again and grabbed the French press to make more coffee.

"Where is she?" Danny asked his partner.

Winter shrugged, thunked some more mugs on the table and slammed the cabinet door shut after getting more ground coffee. "Do I look like her bloody keeper?"

"Winter," Danny growled. "Where the hell is she?"

"Out," came the curt reply from the gruff Englishman.

"How long?"

"A while."

Danny lept from the table, shoved past a bewildered looking Wesley who was standing in the door way looking uncomfortable, and flew back down stairs.

A few seconds later a stream of colorful cursing drifted up the stairwell and then Danny reappeared.

"She took my sodding truck! How the hell did I miss the fact that she took my fucking truck?" he yelled in frustration as he slammed his fist on the table, making everything rattle. "Where was she going, Winter?" he hissed, advancing on the slightly shorter guy until Winter was backed up against the stove.

Winter shoved him away roughly and sensibly put the table between them. "I have no idea; she'll be back when she needs another drink, no doubt."

Danny jerked the tie from his hair and dragged his fingers through the tangled red tresses, anger mixed with worry rolling off him in waves. "She was fucking drunk when I left; she was in no fit state to drive then. How could you let her out?"

"Give me a fucking break, Danny. She hasn't listened to a word I've sodding said since she turned eighteen, and she sure as hell ain't gonna start now, so just let it fucking go and cut me some slack. I've got enough to deal with, without having to worry about Lee's damn emotional issues right now." Winter snapped as he walked off down the corridor, banging a door shut behind him.

"Well, this is fun," Bobby muttered as he got up to finish fixing the coffee.

Les stood up and put his hand on Danny's shoulder. "You any idea where she would have gone?"

"The offy, a bar, the nearest dealer – I don't sodding know. There's a tracker on my truck, I'll check that out and take the Warrior. Want to come with? I might need someone to drive my Landy after we find her and drag her out of whatever gutter she's keeled over in."

Les nodded and Danny went off to find a computer to check on his truck's tracer. Wesley looked over at us and I shot him a glare when he opened his mouth to speak.

Rafe slipped a couple of knives onto the table top and began to sharpen them on a worn stone that he'd had hung around his neck and had, until now, kept hidden under his top.

Wesley paled at the sight of the wicked looking blades. "I have things I need to do," he mumbled as he hurried away. Finally, peace at last.

Bobby poured another cup of coffee and sat back down. "And I agreed to do this because?"

Rafe looked over at him. "Because you care about people, I see it in your eyes. You worry about your partner too – you put his needs before your own without hesitation."

"Get out of my head Cajun, that was a rhetorical question," Bobby muttered as he sipped at the hot cup of caffeine.

Lester looked at his partner thoughtfully and then moved his attention to Rafael. "You see all that in his eyes?"

Rafe shrugged. "A little, but his body language also, as he's is not too hard to read."

Les fiddled with the end of his braid, twisting it around his fingers. "And what do you see in me?"

"Not a lot."

Lester narrowed his eyes. "And what's that supposed to mean, Rafael?"

Rafe rested his chin on his palm. "You don't give that much away. I know that you care for Bailey, but any fool can see that. Besides that, I don't know – Ranger gives the most away."

I shifted in my seat – I didn't like the sound of that. "Explain."

"It's a good mask that you wear, but it does not hide everything. You," he said as he pointed at me absently with one of his blades, "are lost. You don't know up from down, black from white and light from dark. For the first time in many years you are uncertain about the direction you are heading in, you have no guidelines to follow and your morality is uncertain. For you, this job is about finding out just how much you can take before you become uncomfortable with things, almost like how many laws you can break and how many rules you can bend before your conscience kicks in."

"Bullshit," I growled.

Rafe shrugged. "Suit yourself; the only person you are lying to is you. I do not question your actions, only observe them. But if you listen to your heart, then you will make life a lot easier for yourself."

I shook my head, refusing to even reply to his crazy statement. I was here for Winter and his crew, this had nothing to do with my morality.

Danny came back and placed his laptop on the counter, taking his anger out on the keyboard. "No point sending out a search and rescue party, she's only about 2 clicks away and heading in this direction. Tracker log shows that she's been up to Killarney, and I guess we'll find out why when she gets back."

"If you want to talk to her, we can make ourselves scarce," I offered.

"I can't see it making the slightest bit of difference either way, as I doubt that she'll talk. So by all means stay, or if you don't want to see her trolleyed and high, you can go stash your gear. We're short on space, so you're all in the first room on the left – two sets of bunks. Bathroom is the first on the right."

Rafe grabbed his duffle and knives and went to sort out his gear; guess seeing Bailey drunk was not high on his list of priorities. The rest of us, we were worried about her. I didn't want to deal with a repeat of Lester – watching someone you cared about hurting for years was not much fun. Les was finally coping now, and I didn't want to have to start over the heartache with Lee. Somehow, we were going to have to help her, as I doubted that anyone of us could sit back and watch her self destruct.

Danny shut his laptop down, tied his hair back and lit another cigarette with a shaky hand. "I hate it when she does this, tears my heart out every time. I should have learnt by now that this is just her way of dealing with life, but it still scares the shit out of me. One of these days she's gonna go too far, and there's not a god damn thing I can do about it. I'll be amazed if she makes it to thirty, but I don't want to have to bury another sister, one was one too many."

"Maybe she just needs to take a step back," Bobby suggested.

"She won't," I replied.

Danny nodded. "Burning the candle at both ends is her specialty, along with a sack full of denial. Ten years of chaos, and she still won't step back when things get rough."

"She had some time off recently, right?" Les asked.

Danny rolled his eyes and dropped the half smoked cigarette in his cup of cold coffee. "Worked a job based out of Greece – spent a couple of days catching up on sleep somewhere warm once she wrapped that up, but that was about it."

Interesting. "I didn't know you guys were that active down there."

Danny shrugged. "We're not, someone she's had dealings with called a marker in whilst things were being wrapped up in Miami."

Les fidgeted in his seat – a sign of worry. "Do we know him, the guy she did the job for?"

"I hope not, he makes Jer and Kelly look unprofessional and sane."

"What was the job?" I quizzed.

Danny lit yet another smoke and I remembered that it was the equivalent of his nervous tick. "Not a clue, probably a simple locate and remove."

The sound of an engine stopped the conversation dead and Danny stood up, going to stand at the top of the stairs. A vehicle parked and the doors downstairs thudded shut. Silence settled over the room as we listened for noises in the garage, but I didn't hear a thing. Seconds ticked by, and then a couple of minutes. Finally, Danny decided that he'd had enough. He flicked his smoke to the floor, stomping on it with the toe of his boot, took a deep breath and jogged down the steps. The three of us got up and followed a few seconds later.

* * *

"Where've you been, girl?"

"None of your fucking business, Danny Boy, but out, if you must know," Bailey spat as we got to the bottom of the stairs.

She was leaning against the side of a metallic red pickup and she looked like shit. Her long black hair was matted, hanging in clumps in front of her face, which looked so pale. Her eyes – what I could see of them through the mass of dirty tresses, looked bloodshot and sunken, even from this distance of about fifteen feet. Her black long sleeve tee was ripped in a couple of places and dotted with small burn holes, no doubt from the weed she was smoking, and it looked at least a week overdue for a wash. Her Urban print cammies could have been white, grey and black at one point, but now they were just grey and black with no knees. The usual German Para boots had no laces in them and she wore no socks from what I could observe. Scrub the shit comment, Bailey looked ill.

Lester shifted uncomfortably next to me in the doorway, and she looked up at us, shoving her hair out of her face. She pushed off the truck, wobbled slightly, steadying herself on the side of the Land Rover and walked over slowly, a bottle of whisky hanging loosely in one hand.

She stopped about three feet away. "Wondered if you lot would be here when I got back," she said with little emotion.

"Hey," Lester whispered. He looked as shocked at the state of her as the rest of us, Danny excepted. Guess he'd had a few days to get used to the mess she was in.

"Les," Bailey said coolly. "Ric, Bobby. Well, if you will excuse me, I have things I need to do."

"You never told me where you went, Lee," Danny demanded.

"I did. Out."

"Out where? Why did you go to town when there's an offy in the village?"

"Felt like a drive."

Danny lit another cigarette and looked at her suspiciously. "You haven't been any further than the village in two and a half weeks, so why go up to Killarney now?"

Bailey shrugged. "Fucked if I know. What is your problem anyway? You took my bike, so you can't bitch 'cos I took your Landy."

"I'm not the one that's not legal to drive, 'cos I'm shit faced, Lee." Danny closed the distance between them. "Empty your pockets."

"Fuck you!" She made it three paces before he grabbed a hold of her arm and she froze. "Take your fucking hands off me, brother."

"No!"

"I'm gonna count to three, and if you haven't let go, I will make you."

"Empty your pockets, Bailey," Danny growled. He was not a happy man right now.

Bobby stepped forward and tried to de-escalate the situation. "If you have nothing to hide, then you can empty your pockets. Danny's just worried about you, Lee."

"You want to see what's in my pockets?" she hissed.

Danny nodded and let go of her, taking a long drag on his cigarette and blowing the smoke out slowly.

She pulled out some change and tossed it on the floor. A couple of lighters and packets of rolling papers followed, along with a small bag of grass. Next came a set of keys, a spare clip for her Glock and a pocket knife. "Happy now?"

Bobby nodded, but Danny still didn't look happy.

Bailey glared at Danny. "You can pat me down if you like."

He ditched the cigarette, stepped up and skimmed his hands down her arms, back, ribs, hips and legs and came up with nothing. "Take off your bra."

"Excuse me?" she snarled.

"Take off your bra, then I'll let this drop."

"I'm not taking off my bra in front of you lot."

"Just do that clever thing," Bobby suggested, trying to keep the situation calm. "You know, where you pull the straps down your sleeves and unfasten it – that way no one will see anything."

Bailey shook her head. "I'm not taking my bra off. I've emptied my pockets, so let this drop."

Danny sighed. "I'm not going to let this go, sis. I don't want to hurt you, but I won't have you hurting yourself again. Take your bra off."

This was going to shit fast. I watched as Lee flexed her arm to slide a knife out, and Les suddenly pulled his Sig, pointing it at her. He, like all of us knew that Danny's concerns about her getting hold of some heroine looked very likely right now, as it was obvious that she was concealing something.

"I suggest that you take your bra off, beautiful, 'cos I will shoot you. In fact, if you are hiding what Danny thinks that you're hiding, I may as well kill you, as it will be a cleaner death than watching you fry your brain cells on smack. I ain't gonna watch you go that way, baby doll."

Bailey looked him in the eye, and her blank mask wavered. She dropped her knife to the floor, slid her hand up her top and extracted a couple of wraps of paper, letting them drop to the ground with the rest of the detritus from her pockets. "Can I go now?" She seemed suddenly defeated and a little sullen.

Lester nodded and lowered his gun.

Danny picked up the drugs from the floor, carefully unfolding the paper and scrutinizing the contents. "And the rest, Lee. I'm not as damn green as I'm cabbage looking, and I know that you would have gotten more than two wraps."

Bailey took a swig of whiskey and turned to look at Danny. "That's all I have."

"I don't believe you." Danny looked mad and also slightly disappointed in her.

"That's all I have," she repeated tonelessly.

"And I said that I don't believe you," he hissed.

"Fine." She scooped up her stuff from the floor, swaying slightly as she stood back up, and walked towards the truck.

She was half way there when Danny grabbed a hold of her by the arm again. Bailey may have been drunk, but her reflexes weren't as bad as I'd suspected, making me re-evaluate just how drunk she really was. She smashed the half empty bottle against the side of the truck we'd rode over in, and held the razor sharp glass against his neck. "Get the fuck away from me."

Danny sounded calm for a man with a broken bottle pressed against his jugular. "I'm not letting this go, Bailey. Give me the rest of the heroine."

She shook her head and a small trail of blood ran down his neck. Shit. I crossed the distance between us in two strides, attacking from behind, pinning her arms against her back and hauling her backwards at the same time. I squeezed her wrist hard, and she dropped the bottle, letting out a rather nasty curse that questioned my manhood.

Danny shook his head sadly. "Give me the drugs, or I will take them myself."

Lee struggled violently, but I held onto her. I planted my feet wide to stop her from stomping on my feet or kicking my shins. She threw her head backwards, but the height difference made it impossible for her to catch me in the face, instead she just managed to bruise my sternum. I grunted from the impact, but held firm.

Danny looked resigned. "I'll ask you for the last time, please give me the drugs."

"I don't have any more!" she spat as she continued to fight against me.

"Do it," I said to Danny. This was so wrong, but by far the lesser of two evils. Still, that didn't give me much comfort.

Danny slowly slid his hand up her top and she cussed and screamed in protest, managing to catch him hard in the kneecap with the toe of her boot. He hissed in pain, but carried on his search. He withdrew his hand and flung nearly a dozen tiny paper packets on the dirt floor, hobbled backwards and leant against the side of his Land Rover. "You promised me you would never touch that shit again, baby girl," he said in disgust.

"Please," she sobbed suddenly, going limp in my arms. "I need it to make it all go away. Please Danny."

Lester was beside her in a heartbeat and pulled her out of my grasp, holding her tight to him, supporting most of her bodyweight to keep her upright. He whispered soothing words in her ear and rubbed her back in small circles. Looking at me with pain and sadness in his eyes, he nodded, and Bobby and I went to see what state Danny's knee was in.

Six weeks ago Bailey healed Lester. Looks like it's time for him to start returning the favor.

* * *

British Translations

Can't be arsed – Can't be bothered

Offy – Short for Off License which is the same as a liquor store

Trolleyed – Drunk

Not as green as I'm cabbage looking – Not as stupid as I look

About as much use as a chocolate frog (sometimes chocolate tea pot or fire guard) - Useless


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: As always, this was checked over by the wonderful Trish. Thanks babe, you're a star.**

**There are Three Types of Lies: Lies, Damn Lies & Statistics**

**Chapter Three**

Twenty minutes later and Winter had stopped sulking enough to actually cook some food, and Danny was sprawled on the couch with his leathers around his ankles as Bobby doctored his knee. Lester had managed to get Bailey to her pull herself back together enough to begin functioning again, and had shut her in the bathroom with two towels, industrial quantities of shampoo, a spare set of his sweats and an All Blacks rugby jersey that he'd stolen from Wesley.

Lester pulled up a chair opposite me and absently pushed the sugar bowl around the table with his finger end. He looked tired. "I can't believe that she had so much smack on her. She surprised me, I mean she doesn't look like a junkie."

Bobby stood up swiftly from his crouch in front of Danny, and peeled off his latex gloves. "So tell me bro, just what does a junkie look like?"

"Like, I don't know…"

"Like me? Many things are addictive, not just heroine and coke, Lester. I've spent years battling Prozac, so stop being so judgmental."

Lester turned around to look at his partner. "Sorry, man. I just - you know?"

"Didn't think before you opened your mouth." Bobby finished for him curtly, as he deftly packed his med supplies away.

Les nodded, he looked a little sheepish.

Bobby turned his attention back to his patient. "Speaking of heroine, I take it you don't want any morphine for the pain?" he asked Danny.

"Thanks, but no. I'll pass on that. I've got some ibuprofen in the kitchen med box. So, what's the verdict, doc?"

Bobby tossed the waste in the trash and dropped down on the other end of the couch."Heavily bruised. You're lucky that she didn't dislocate your knee cap with that blow she gave you, which is what I suspect she was trying to do. Keep your weight off it as much as possible for the next 48 hours and it should be fine. No running, scaling walls or stupidity for the next few days."

"Just what are you trying to say," Danny said with mock hurt.

"That you're a muppet," Winter chipped in.

"Oh thanks, Winter. Nice to see that you respect me so much. How many times have I saved your arse over the years?"

"And how many times," Winter gestured towards Danny with the egg whisk that he held in his hand, "has your muppetry got us in the shit in the first place? And how many times have I hauled your arse out of the fire?"

"I am so screwed," Danny sighed.

"See, I told ya, you're my apprentice," Winter said cheerfully.

Christ, these two were giving me a headache. "Have you guys been arguing about that since Trenton?"

"Since around 2003, if my memory serves correct." Rafe said as he came and joined us at the table. "I thought I smelled food. Good to see that you have finally come to your senses, Winter. If you'd let Danny feed us then we'd have all got food poisoning."

"That's it, just taunt the invalid, why don't you," Danny huffed as he tried to stand to pull his pants up, but was unsuccessful and collapsed back on the sofa with a groan.

"Christ, will you put some clothes on," Winter muttered. "Are you trying to ruin everyone's appetite here?"

"Least he's wearing some underwear this time," Bailey commented from the bathroom doorway. "Hey bro, remember that time in Germany when -"

Danny glared at her over the back of the sofa. "That's quite enough thank you, little girl. You've done enough damage to me today as it is."

She shuffled uncomfortably in the door way. "About that -"

Danny cut her off sharply. "Forget it."

Bailey was clean, albeit her hair was still damp. She looked a little better. She must be feeling a bit more with it if she was ribbing Danny. The borrowed clothes swam on her. She must have left Miami with nothing but her laptop and her small carry on, as I suspected that she'd been wearing the filthy t-shirt and ripped fatigues for a while. She was never the neatest or most fastidious person on the planet, but letting herself go like that showcased just how close to the edge she was. Les had confiscated the offending garments, dumping them in a garbage bag and tossing them down the stairs. It wasn't until the adrenalin had faded that we'd all noticed that she smelled less than fresh, so the clothes had had to go and a shower was a high priority for her.

Les pushed his chair back from the table slightly and held out his hand. Bailey hesitated for a couple of seconds and a look of panic flew across her face. She took a deep breath, composed herself, crossed the kitchen, and slid onto his lap.

He wrapped his arms loosely around her waist, kissed the top of her head and smiled. "You smell normal again."

"You had my brand of shower gel," she responded quietly. "Why is that?"

Lester blushed. "Because it reminded me of you."

Winter rolled his eyes and coughed. "Lee, do you want some-"

"Yes, in my-"

"With the-"

"Yes."

"Danny?"

"Yeah, what she said."

Winter flicked the kettle on and extracted a tea pot, a caddy of loose tea and three mugs from a cabinet and set them on the counter.

Rafe smirked. "It's like living with the Walton's, working with you lot."

Danny hit Rafe square in the back of the head with his elasticized hair band. "Oi, watch it, Casanova. Misfortunes have befallen many for lesser insults."

"Bite me, Turner."

"Fuck you, Langlinais."

Winter sighed. "Children, enough. Do I have to spank someone?"

Rafe sniggered. "Oh I love it when he gets all dominant."

"You just want him to spank your arse, that's why you misbehave so much," Danny joked.

Rafe shot him the bird and ping-ed the rubber band back, which hit Danny directly between the eyes.

Bailey looked thoughtful for a second. "I've always thought that Rafe would much rather spank-"

Winter cut her off. "Right, thank you everyone. If any of you rabble would like feeding any time soon, then you better stop talking. The next person who says anything is not getting any supper. Nod your heads if you understand."

I bit back a laugh. The camaraderie between these guys was second to none, kind of like my crew back in the old days. It was troubling that Tank had refused to come to Ireland, and the way we parted had unsettled me a hell of a lot. Speaking of Tank, it was time that I called him. I slid my cell from my pocket, stepped into the stairwell for some privacy - and to avoid the wrath of Winter, and hit speed dial #1.

"What?"

"Just checking in, Tank."

"Fine."

"Mac there yet?"

"Yes."

Christ, would it hurt him to actually put some emotion into this phone call? "So, who did Phil send you up from Atlanta?"

"Spider and Jack."

Fine, two can play at this game. "Status report."

"All A-OK."

I hung up. There was no point in trying to talk to Tank tonight. I'd give him a few days to get his head out of his ass and then try again. We'd been friends too long to ever let anything come between us, but on this occasion, I had my doubts as to how well our friendship would hold up over this mission.

I cracked the door into the kitchen open and listened. Sweet, paybacks are a bitch. Wesley had obviously wandered into the kitchen in my absence and opened his big mouth, leaving him bereft of dinner. He did not sound happy.

"But I didn't know," he wailed as Winter dished up omelets onto plates.

"Wash up and maybe we'll let you eat," Danny offered.

"I washed up last night, this is so unfair, guys."

Winter set garlic bread and salad on the table and loaded up a plate for the invalid on the sofa. "Take it or leave it, that's the best offer you're gonna get, Wesley."

Wesley pouted and planted his hands on his hips. "I'm so going to tell my brother that you've been picking on me."

The room went silent. Danny peered over the back of the couch, snatched the plate containing his dinner out of Winter's hand, and met Bailey's gaze. It looked like the soundless communication between the two of them was not very Wesley friendly. Danny shook his head very slightly and dropped back down again, out of the line of fire. Bailey glanced at Wes and sighed, while Rafe hid a smirk behind his hand.

Winter was mad - Fists curled, jaw clenched and nostrils flaring. He certainly was one mean son of a bitch when pissed and I knew why Danny snatched the plate off him. "Your brother is in jail, so I am pretty damn sure he has more important things to worry about than how many times we've made you do the washing up. You are in my house, with my rules and you will obey them. If I tell you to clean the toilet with your own fucking toothbrush, you will. I am only letting you stay here as a favor to your brother, and it's a favor that I am beginning to regret. So keep your fucking mouth shut and toe the damn line, and maybe we'll all be able to refrain from kicking you pathetic, spoilt, lazy arse from here to next sodding week. Do I make myself clear, boy?"

Wesley blinked back tears, nodded curtly and bolted for his room, ran straight into Billy, bounced of the huge guy's chest and landed smack on his ass on the floor at Billy's feet.

Billy looked down at Wesley like he was something nasty stuck to the bottom of his shoe, stepped deftly around him and sat down at the table. He looked over at his boss. "You cook?"

Winter nodded.

"Good."

Somehow I knew that this meal was going to be fun.

* * *

"So, what's with the kid brother?" Rafe asked as he chewed on a hunk of garlic bread.

Wesley was still absent, no doubt sulking in his room.

"Warwick's…" Winter paused and rubbed his forehead with his fingertips, "I don't know the easiest way to explain to those of you who haven't met him."

"He's a snob," Billy stated.

Danny's head popped up over the back of the couch he was still lounging on and he shot Billy a sharp glare. "Warwick's not like the rest of us, he's the only one with a large family, and that family happens to be aristocratic. By all accounts, he should have gone to Sandhurst Military Academy – you know, for officer training, but he ignored his parents and joined the Para's as a grunt. Daddy disowned him, huge disappointment to the Greville's. Warwick was next in line for the family title, would have been an Earl."

"Still acts like a snob," Billy muttered.

"And you still act like a twat," Winter growled, "but we still put up with you. So yeah, Warwick made SAS selection in the same batch as Danny and the four of us have been working together for a hell of a long time. Since we went AWOL ten years ago, we all cut off any contact with whatever family we had left – safer that way. Except Warwick, he's kept an eye on Wesley, looked out for him. Wesley is just like his big brother, doesn't get on with the parents, and Wes needed to get away. Warwick foolishly brought him here, I guess he feels guilty and thinks that he should never have abandoned his little brother in the first place."

Bobby whistled. "An Earl, wow."

Bailey nodded, "Yeah, the Earl of Warwick, no less."

The penny dropped. "So, Warwick's not his real name, I take it.

Winter shook his head. "Nah, hasn't used that name in a long time."

"So," Lester chipped in, "What you gonna do about the brother?"

"Shoot him?" Danny asked hopefully, "'Cos he's a fucking liability and we can do without the agro right now."

"I second that," Billy said.

Bailey nodded her support.

"Guys, he's blood," Winter sighed.

"So?" Billy grunted, "Still a pain in the arse and trouble we don't need. If Warwick wants to keep him safe, we need to ship him off somewhere out of the way. We don't have the time to babysit him.

"I have a friend in Venezuela who runs a brothel, and I'm sure he could make use of the lad," Rafe offered.

Everyone seemed to be seriously considering it as an option, except Winter who just groaned and put his head in his hands. "Anyone have any serious suggestions?" he asked though gritted teeth.

Lester sniggered. "Got it. Send him to Boston and let Snake and Bones deal with him; they'll eat him for breakfast."

I seriously pondered the suggestion. "That's a possibility. As long as we can get him out of the country without a hitch, then that could work. He should be safe over there, and I'm sure the boys could use a gofer to make the coffee."

Danny slowly and carefully pulled himself up into a sitting position and draped an arm over the back of the sofa. "Nice call, Les. What do you think, Winter?"

"It has possibilities, distinct possibilities," he mused. "Fuck it, why the hell not. It gets him out from under our feet and we won't have to worry about him. Warwick can stop worrying about him too once he's out. I like that idea, so who wants to tell the annoying little bugger that he's going on a little summer work experience trip?"

Billy stood up from the table and strode down the corridor without a word. The door to Wesley's room that he'd been sharing with his brother opened and shut almost soundlessly and I could make out the faint sound of Billy's southern English accent.

"So," Winter exclaimed with mock cheerfulness, jarring me from my eavesdropping, "Let's move onto business, shall we?"

"Warwick." Danny stated. "We need a plan to get him out of jail. Thoughts, ideas, suggestions, anyone?"

"Blueprints?" I asked, and Winter disappeared down the corridor to return with a sheaf of papers in his arms. He spread the plans on the table, holding some of the curling edges of the papers down with a sauce bottle, two tea cups and the sugar bowl. "These, gentleman are the plans to Portlaoise prison. We have two main problems: One, that we have no idea which wing, let alone cell, Warwick is in, and two; we have no idea how to get into either. In other words, we're royally fucked."

Rafe swept the lose strands of hair out of his face that had escaped his pony tail and took a sip of his sugar loaded black coffee. "What have you thought of so far?"

"Squat, nada, zip, zilch," Billy announced bitterly as he rejoined us at the table.

Winter raised an eyebrow and then scowled at him.

"Well, it's true. And Wesley's sorted by the way. Not a happy camper, but he knows that there is fuck all he can do about it." Billy swung his icy gaze to Bailey. "Girl, he needs a flight to Boston. Deal with it."

Bailey ignored him and topped off her mug of tea, blowing gently on the steaming liquid before swallowing a mouthful.

"Oi, I'm talking to you, girl!" Billy growled.

Winter and Danny were both silent – watching the situation with mild interest. Guess they'd seen this sort of thing before. I was still trying to make my mind up about Billy, but I wasn't far from coming to the conclusion that the guy was a prick. I just didn't like him – attitude, manner, whatever it was that was making me feel this way. I was sure that I wouldn't want him at my back. Ever. That had been my instant gut reaction, and I wasn't about to start doubting it.

Bailey continued to ignore him and drank some more tea. The silence was thick, strained and Billy looked about five seconds from snapping.

Suddenly, Winter broke the tension. "Lee?"

"Hmm?"

"Can you set Wes up with a flight and some ID, please?"

She looked up at him and mischief sparkled in her eyes. "Sure thing, boss."

Billy growled at her and she flipped him off, scooting off Lester's lap to settle on the couch. She gently lifted Danny's legs, dropped his feet on her lap, snagged her laptop from the coffee table and balanced it on his lower legs, booting the machine up. Her fingers flew over the keys as she went through the passwords and access codes, and finally the main screen appeared.

"Fuck," she muttered. "I can't do this. We don't have a printer capable of printing the new passport and documents, let alone the blanks to print onto."

"Can they link him to Warwick?" I asked.

She shrugged and looked at Winter. "What name was Warwick using when they busted him?"

"Nothing that could link him to Wes."

Bailey nodded, but didn't look happy. "Still don't like sticking him on a plane without fake ID. We can send him to Miami on his passport and have one of the Rangeman guys drop him some new ID off at the airport. Then he can fly to Boston under a different name. Silvio should be able to handle that if I send him a photo. That's the best I'm going to be able to do."

"Okay, go with that," Winter said. "Better to be safe than sorry."

"When do you want me to get rid of him?"

"Yesterday," Danny joked.

Winter rolled his eyes. "How about ASAP instead?"

She scrolled through the flight listings for Cork airport. "Tomorrow afternoon do?"

"Do it. Billy can take him up there."

"Boss-"

"Save it Billy, I'm not in the mood," Winter snapped.

"I'm paying for this, how?" Lee quizzed. "What have you got that's untraceable?"

Winter pulled a tin of beans from the cupboard and pulled the lid off. Clever. It was a dummy tin. He tipped out a stash of credit cards and worked his way through them until he found the one that he wanted, and handed it to Bailey. "Use that – emergency account."

"Sure thing." She tapped and clicked away, and minutes later Wesley was booked on a flight to Miami and Silvio had the information he needed to get some new I.D together for Wesley. She shut the computer down and put it back on the coffee table, settled back into the couch cushions and absently ran her hand over Danny's injured knee.

"It was a good shot," he said quietly as he took hold of her hand and squeezed gently.

Bailey sighed. "Not good enough, bro. It should have done more damage than that."

"True, but I'm very thankful that it didn't. You slipping, sis?"

Bailey laughed bitterly. "More than likely. I need to get back in the game."

"You do and you will. Just give it time."

"We don't have time, Danny. If you don't get Warwick out soon, there's no telling what the fuck is going to happen to him inside."

"Can we get a tracker on him?" Bobby asked suddenly.

Winter chewed on a finger nail. "We've got the technology, but it's getting it to him that's the problem."

"Funeral?" Danny suggested.

Lester spoke up and echoed my own thoughts. "What the fuck? Explain."

"Like in the _Italian Job_, that film with Michael Caine," Danny elucidated. "They had to get a message to some guy in prison, so they held a funeral and he got let out to attend and they passed the info to him there."

Winter shook his head. "Too risky, and it would take too long to organize. Plus there is no guarantee that they would let him out. If they do any digging on his alias, they won't come up with any family that's alive. No, nice idea, but not this time. We just don't have the resources or the connections for it to work. The only way to get him a tracker is to give it to him in person."

"Bake him a cake," Rafe said with a grin.

Danny snorted, "And we'll be smuggling him out dressed as a washer woman next, right?"

"Go with the tracker," I announced. "If we have the technology to get it past security then we can slip it to him on a visit. They do let him have visitors, don't they?"

"Half an hour, once a week," Winter stated. "We'll need to send in someone who they won't suspect."

Rafe nodded thoughtfully. "Like his girlfriend."

We all looked at Bailey, who flew off the couch, which caused Danny to yelp in pain.

She spun around to face us, planted her hands on her hips and shook her head adamantly. "No."

"Lee," Winter cajoled.

"I said no."

"He's right baby girl, they won't suspect you as much as one of us. If we give you a good enough cover then you should be okay. He's in on terrorism charges and they will suspect any guy who wants to visit him. They'd probably arrest us too, as we know that they are after the rest of us connected with the guns. You've not been involved with this fuck up, so they won't know who you are.

"I can't do it," she hissed at Danny. "I'm not up for this sort of shit just yet!"

"Fucking useless bint you are," Billy growled.

Rafe, who sat opposite Billy with his back to the couch, instantly ducked, Bobby leaned out of the way and Lester hit the deck. Bailey cussed at Billy, Billy swore back and Winter pulled two bags of popcorn from the cabinet, hopped up to sit on the counter and threw the spare bag to Danny who caught it and pulled it open, stuffing a handful in his mouth.

Billy was still yelling at Lee. His face was bright red and his eyes were bulging. Lee was yelling back and her eyes had gone that wonderful shade of green that only appeared when she was about to orgasm or shoot someone. Shit. I looked back at Winter for a clue as to how to deal with this, but he just smiled and ate some more popcorn. I really didn't know this side of her life, but I was beginning to realize that Bailey and Billy did not get on, and it didn't seem to be a new thing.

Suddenly, Billy pulled his gun from the small of his back, flicked the safety off and pointed it at Lee. She held her arms out from her sides and looked him in the eyes. "Do it, Billy. You've wanted to shoot me for the last ten years, so just do it, you wanker."

Billy shifted his stance slightly and aimed for her mouth – a standard SAS killing shot.

"You kill my sister and you'll be begging me to shoot you, arsehole," Danny gritted out. "I'll make it my mission to keep you alive for months as I cut bits off you."

Billy glanced over at Danny, and from the look in his eyes, he knew that Danny wasn't joking. He slid the safety back onto his gun, popped the clip and placed it on the table, turned on his heel and went out the kitchen door and down the stairs.

Bailey was fuming. "I don't need you to fight my battles, Danny!"

"Put the knife away, Lee. I know you don't, and I wasn't. He's just pissing me off. We're all on edge and getting jumpy 'cos of Warwick. Look, I know you can do this and you are the only hope we have of getting tabs on Warwick. You know that once we have a tracker on him we can extract him so much more easily. Please baby girl, do this for Warwick. You know he'd do the same for you," Danny pleaded.

"I don't want to go in there, bro. I can do distance work, but I'm not up to this sneaky covert shit right now."

"And I'll bet Warwick doesn't want to be in there any more than you do. He's counting on us to help him, and we're counting on you to help us to help him."

She scrubbed her hands over her face and sighed. "Fine, I'll do it. I need a fucking drink."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks to Kev for comments, thoughts and ideas.**

**There are Three Types of Lies: Lies, Damn Lies & Statistics**

**Chapter Four**

* * *

"So, run this crazy plan past me one more time," Bobby muttered as he absently picked the label off his bottle of Bud.

Danny lit a cigarette and took another sip of some dubious looking beer called _Sheepshagger_. "Lee calls the prison in the morning to arrange a visit posing as Warwick's girlfriend, Dervla MacGuire. She's used that alias before, and if they dig, they can trace it back to a flat in Carlow. Visit secured, she'll move up to the flat to make her cover solid and wait until her appointment at the prison. Once she meets with Warwick, she'll slip him the tiny, undetectable tracker and job done, meet up with the rest of us. Then we can move onto phase two - busting him out of there.

"We'll fit a wire on Bailey before she leaves, and do some long range ops on her once she is in Carlow to make sure everything is okay. The tracker will only be activated once she has passed it to Warwick, so that way it won't set any alarms off on the way into the prison."

"You sure the tracker and wire will be undetectable?" Rafe asked warily. "Still seems like a huge risk getting that lot into a prison."

"New technology and materials," Winter announced proudly. "Low-metal-content inner ear and mouth implant. Wire from the mic in the mouth is passed into the ear canal and connects to the ear piece. We'll be able to hear Lee and she can hear us, and it's totally invisible. All we have to do is turn it off when she goes though security, and back on again when she's through. Oh, and I suggest a couple of you newcomers do the listening job just to be on the safe side. We'll have no idea who is watching the prison or her flat, and some of us can't afford to be recognized.

"The tracker is the size of a button and with a bit of slight of hand, Lee can pass it to Warwick. We can arm it from a distance of around 1km. Again, that way it's not live when she goes though the prison entry checks. It's some hi-tech gadget MI5 have created specifically for getting through tight security and thus perfect for this job."

I glanced at Winter suspiciously. "So tell me, just how did you get your hands on all this equipment?"

Winter grinned. "I have an inside contact at MI5 who sends me the specs of all their new toys, and I then pass those on to a guy in Liverpool who replicates them for me."

"Nice," Lester commented.

More like sneaky and underhand, but I'd come to expect no less from Winter. He seemed to have more tricks up his sleeve than a magician, and possess more information than the CIA. Combine that with his team's ruthless, calculating efficiency and dodgy dealings and any fool could see how this lot were some of the best in this field.

Bailey held up her hand, gesturing for him to stop. "Hang on just a second; go back a bit, Winter. Just how do you connect the mic in my mouth to the receiver in my ear?"

Winter shifted in his seat, took a long pull of beer, coughed and looked anywhere but at Bailey. "It's connected by a tiny wire."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Yes, I got that bit. How?"

"We use a syringe with a special needle on the end to hook onto the wire in your mouth and pull it through into your ear canal, and then connect the two bits together," Winter announced succinctly.

Bailey paled and her green eyes went wide.

Danny patted her absently on the shoulder. "Think of it as an extreme body mod, sis."

She shook her head. "Oh no, you are not sticking a large needle from my ear to my gob. No way in hell that is happening – work something else out."

Winter glanced over at Bobby. "You're a medic, should be a piece of cake for you, right?"

Poor Bobby looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He glanced over at me for support and I shrugged. It was his call to make.

"I'm an army medic, guys. Not an ENT specialist," he protested.

Winter waved his hand. "You'll be fine," he said flippantly.

"He might be, but I won't," Lee muttered. "Maybe you should draw him a diagram Winter, just to make sure."

"Come on Lee, the SAS are using this technology all the time," Winter cajoled. "Right, Danny?"

"Sure," Danny agreed all too easily, "It'll be a walk in the park."

Lee stood up, clearly agitated, and pulled a bottle of Jameson's from the back of a cupboard, cracked the seal on it and took a long swig. "No."

Danny reached for the bottle and she side stepped him easily, backing away towards the hall. "No way. No."

Winter looked at me for help and I shook my head, while Danny looked to Lester, who was equally unsupportive. "Don't look at me, man. I ain't the one with the threat of a fucking huge needle being shoved in my ear. Hell, just the thought of it makes me shiver, and that's coming from a man with a ring in the end of his dick. It's Lee's body, so it's her call."

Danny cracked his knuckles and grinned at Bailey. "You can keep that bottle of single malt if you agree to the wire."

"Fuck you Danny," she growled as she turned and fled to her room, slamming and locking the door behind her.

"Well," Winter slapped a fake, cheery smile onto his face, "That went well, folks."

Bobby leaned his chair back onto two legs and drained the Bud. "The technology sounds great man, it really does, but I'm not sure that I've got the capability to put it in situ. I could seriously fuck something up, and I'm not prepared to risk it. Life or death situation, and I'll do what I have to do, but that doesn't mean that I enjoy randomly sticking giant needles into people's heads."

"Nice ethics," Rafe commented as he squeezed Bobby's shoulder.

Bobby blushed. "Thanks," he mumbled.

The corners of Lester's mouth twitched slightly as he watched their exchange and I rolled my eyes. Rafe was really getting to Bobby.

Winter stood up to get more beer. "Well, it looks like I'll just have to do the implant job myself. It's the only viable mic set up we have that won't show up, and I want ears on them in that prison. No mic, then no way of getting the tracker to Warwick, and I'm not prepared to leave him there to rot."

"You're a bastard," Lester spat.

Winter nodded. "Yeah, that's why I run this show. Someone has to make the difficult decisions. Look Bobby, if you want to try it out first, you can test it on Danny. He's so thick skinned that he won't feel a damn thing."

"Oi!" Danny yelled. "I am sitting right here, boss."

Winter faked a surprised look. "Oh, so you are. You'll play guinea pig for Bobby, right?"

"What about using Wesley?" Danny suggested hopefully.

Stunning idea, and the most sensible thing Danny had said all day. Unfortunately for us, though fortunately for Wesley, Winter shot his idea down.

"I'm not that much of a bastard, Danny. If you're such a wuss, then I'll be the willing victim. Never thought I'd see the day that you chickened out on something."

I covered my mouth with my hand to hide the smile on my face, while Lester faked a cough. Clever tactics. Winter knew damn well that by egging Danny on and then telling him that he was a chicken was going to push the red head's buttons and get him to agree. Danny was that sort of guy and he wouldn't like his boss questioning his masculinity.

"Fine," Danny snorted. He looked over at Bobby. "Tomorrow morning when we're all sober okay with you?"

Bobby gulped and nodded fractionally. He was not a happy camper.

* * *

"Stop moving!" Bobby hissed.

Danny grimaced. "That's one huge fucking needle you got there, man."

"The SAS do this all the time, right?" Lester teased. "So no worries, hey Danny."

Danny was sat in a kitchen chair with a white knuckled grip on the table top, med supplies spread out in front of him, while Bobby hovered around him with the biggest syringe I had ever seen in my life, in his surgical gloved hand.

Danny growled at Lester and Winter put the kettle on again. Apart from Danny's griping, the apartment was quiet. Billy had gone up to Cork with Wesley, Bailey was still in bed having gone back to her nocturnal hours, and the rest of us were watching Bobby with macabre fascination as he set up to implant a wire in Danny's head.

"Afraid of needles, big guy?" Rafe joked.

Danny shook his head vigorously, causing the numerous rings in his ears to rattle together. "What do you fucking think, you muppet?"

Rafe grinned. "You never can tell, maybe they sedated you when they put that lot in."

Danny lunged for Rafe, but his leg was still giving him mobility problems and Bobby pushed him easily back down in the chair. "Hush up and sit still. If you won't behave, I will sedate you and then practice on you until I get this right. I might have to try both ears, just to be on the safe side."

Danny paled and instantly sat still.

"Relax," Bobby soothed, slipping easily into the role of the reassuring medical professional. "I'm going to give you a local first, so you shouldn't feel much more than me tugging on the wire."

He loaded up a smaller syringe with the local anesthetic and jabbed it in Danny's ear canal. Danny hissed, but kept still and then shot Bobby an evil glare when my medic numbed the inside of his mouth seconds later.

"Sorted. By the time I've got this lot set, you won't be able to feel a thing – in theory anyway."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Danny rasped out. He was losing feeling in his mouth already.

Bobby smiled. "The entry and exit points are fine – it's just the bit in the middle that could be a little sore. Anyway, I thought you SAS guys were as hard as nails."

Danny glowered. "We are."

"Well, don't be such a baby then," Bobby teased as he picked up the mic and long wire. "Now shut up, stick this in your mouth and hold it in place with your finger."

Rafe sniggered. "How's your oral technique, Danny?"

Danny, incapable of speech, shot him the bird with his free hand, causing Rafe to laugh loudly.

"Stop winding him up, Rafe," Bobby snapped. "I might have to practice on you next."

Rafe smiled, flashing his perfect white teeth. "Bobby, you can use and abuse me any time. All you have to do is ask."

The giant needle in Bobby's hand wavered slightly and he looked away from Rafe hurriedly. Rafe really was getting under Bobby's skin, so to speak, and it was highly entertaining. I'd never seen bashful Bobby before. Cool, calm and collected Bobby, serious Bobby and party animal Bobby, yes, but not this easily rattled and blushing like a school girl Bobby. It really was fun.

Bobby re-focused his attention on Danny again. "I'm going to count to three and then do this. Okay?"

Danny grunted and stared intently at the blank kitchen wall over my left shoulder.

"One." Suddenly and without warning, Bobby slid the syringe into Danny's skull from inside his right ear, going in vertically towards the back of the jaw. Danny squirmed in the chair and Bobby clamped down on his shoulder with his free to hold him in his seat. "You move, and I'll hit something vital. Stop fidgeting; I need to hook the wire, so open your mouth and keep still."

Danny complied albeit grudgingly and Bobby poked and prodded until he was happy, and then slowly retracted the needle, pulling the wire into the ear canal. "Sorted. Nice job, Danny. Let's get this sucker connected to the ear piece and test it out."

Five minutes later and Danny was wired for sound. Both the ear piece and mic worked perfectly and were totally invisible. The metal content was so low that it would pass through metal detectors without a hitch. Winter was very pleased with the results so far, and Danny had stopped swearing and cursing as the throbbing in his face had subsided. The mic test had consisted of a long stream of creative swear words, half of which I didn't understand. It seemed that for kicks on one very dull job, Danny had learnt how to curse and insult in Latin.

Danny was one strange guy, and I still didn't quite get him. Just when I thought that I had him figured, he'd do something else and I'd have to re-evaluate my opinion of him. At first glance, based upon his initial appearance back in Scotland last month, I'd written him off as a simple, trigger happy thug. Yet behind the tattoos and multiple piercings was a clever, witty and loyal to the death guy who would move heaven and earth for his comrades. There was also a dark side lurking just beneath the surface; a side I saw a little of back in that warehouse in Trenton, when he took Erik to pieces slowly and methodically, leaving nothing behind but a pile of dismembered flesh and bones. It was the dark side that frightened me, because I knew that I had not seen the worst of it and when I did, it could well be a sign of impending doom or the apocalypse.

If it wasn't for the love he had for Bailey, I'd have considered him to be one step away from a serial killer. She was a sister to him, despite the lack of a blood relationship; though I'd have said that their bond was stronger than blood. They were two halves of a whole, soul mates even, and after watching them together I realized that what they had wasn't remotely sexual. It had never been about that, nor would it ever be. I knew Lester was falling hard for Bailey, but it would be Danny that would be the one to put her back together after the trauma she suffered at the hands of the Russians. Unfortunately for Lee, she wasn't willing to let him do that just yet, and Danny was still stuck on the outside looking in as she tried her best to self destruct.

Bailey might let him in eventually, but first she had to hit the bottom, only then would she let him help, maybe. She wasn't quite there yet, but she wasn't far from it. If she was willing to resort to smack to keep the demons at bay, then it was only a matter of days before the shit hit the fan. Until that point we just had to sit back and let her get on with it, no use trying to help someone who doesn't want to be helped.

I tuned back into the conversation that had been going on around me in the kitchen and decided that I had missed nothing vital.

"- so just don't go around slagging me off, remember?" Winter teased Danny.

"Fuck," the red head muttered. "Can't you take this damn thing out, doc?"

"Shower first and then we'll see. Winter tells me that there's no data for usage over a long period of time and we could do with knowing how long the battery will last and if you can get it wet for example. And you still need to go out later and test the range of it," Bobby explained.

"Yeah, just 'cos I heard on the SAS and MI5 grapevine that this sucker was indestructible, doesn't mean that they are telling the truth," Winter snorted. "You know as well as I do that they like to make thing up."

"Fine, I'll live with it for a while. I better go kick Lee out of bed, she needs to call the prison ASAP and it's getting on, must be nearly lunchtime," Danny mused.

He limped off down the corridor to the far end and banged on Bailey's bedroom door. "Oi, little girl, haul your arse out of bed. The day is wasting away and you have shit to do."

There was a muffled reply from the other side of the door and Danny dropped his forehead against the wood. "Open the door, Lee. This isn't fucking funny."

Something heavy thudded against the door from the inside, which caused Danny to jerk back in shock. He kicked the door in frustration, and hissed out a sharp breath, obviously forgetting the state of his knee momentarily. Swearing under his breath, which came across very well over the receiver on the kitchen table, he hobbled back to the kitchen and looked to his boss.

"Can you pick the lock on her door? I can't bend down enough to get level with it with this damn knee."

Winter grimaced. "Yeah, but I don't have a death wish. She'll come out when she needs a piss or some food."

Danny shook his head. "She's creative, so she won't come out if she doesn't want to. You know that as well as I do. She needs to start taking responsibility for her actions, man. She has a job to do, just like the rest of us and I'm getting fed up with her damn attitude. If you don't pick that lock, I swear I'll shoot the sodding thing and to hell with the consequences!"

Winter ran his hands through his spiked hair in frustration, mussing it up slightly and let out a resigned sighed. "Fine, but if she shoots me or lobs a knife at me, I'm going to kick your arse and actually dislocate your other knee." He rummaged around in the cutlery drawer and pulled out a lock pick set, and set about Bailey's door as silently as possible. About twenty seconds later he stepped back and looked at Danny. "It's all yours, man."

Danny knocked softly on the door, gently eased it open and stepped into the doorway. "Hey, Lee-Lee-"

A German para boot shot past his head and smacked into the hallway wall opposite him. "Don't ever call me that!" The other boot hit him square in the chest.

Foolishly, Danny stepped into her room and shut the door.

Winter turned the volume up on the receiver and grinned. "This should be interesting, gentlemen. I wonder if we have any more popcorn."

For twenty minutes, Danny and Bailey yelled and cussed at each other from the confines of her room. She sounded as drunk as a skunk and high to boot. The whisky that she'd snagged the previous night had been finished off and the bottle itself had bitten the dust after impacting with an as yet unidentified object in her bedroom. Winter had indeed found more popcorn and had tipped it into a huge bowl that he'd set in the middle of the kitchen table. It was now mostly gone, just a few scraps and crumbs left in the bottom.

"He's a brave man," Bobby remarked.

"What, Danny?" Winter snorted. "He's a total and utter fucking muppet. Won't win in a battle of words with Lee, even if she is on another planet and certainly can't get the drop on her. She's still as mean as a snake and faster than him, despite alcohol in her system. Only advantage he has is brute strength, and he's a pussycat around her most of the time. From what I heard about last night, that's the first time he's laid a hand on her in anger in years. He's well buggered, unless by some remote chance he can charm her out of there, which I doubt. How are you off for med supplies, Bobby?"

Bobby smiled. "I've enough. Packed for anything and everything this time."

"Even removing her boot from up his ass?" Rafe joked.

"Her boots are in the corridor," I commented dryly.

Winter laughed. "She's resourceful, she'll think of something else."

"Ewww! Thanks for that mental image, man," Les groaned.

"Hasn't it gone quiet in there?" Rafe quizzed.

We all lent in close to the small receiving unit next to the popcorn bowl and strained our ears, listening for sounds for Lee's room.

"Too quiet," Winter muttered. "I don't like it."

Danny's hushed tones made us all jump. "Baby girl?"

There was a rustle of clothing. "Leave me alone." Bailey was crying, her voice loud and close to the mike.

"I want to help, Lee. Please, for the love of god, let me help you."

"I don't want your help, Danny. Now leave me alone," she sniffled. Sounded like she was crying all over him.

"So you can sulk and brood and wallow in despair and self hatred?"

"It's not like that, Danny."

"Sure it's not, honey. And I'm the queen of fucking Sheba."

"It's not like that. You don't know, none of you know!" Her voice was raised and she sounded angry.

"So tell me, Bailey. Tell me what happened. Tell me what is making you self destruct," Danny murmured in a soothing tone. "You know, you're letting them win, you acting like this. They are dead and gone and you're safe, but you are still letting them win by hurting yourself like this."

"I can't -" she choked out.

I was right, Lee was nearly at rock bottom and it wouldn't be long before she completely fell apart. I just hoped for all our sakes that she could hold it together long enough to get into the prison.

"Where is my sister, Lee? Where's that strong woman I love so much?"

"Danny, please. What they did…"

"I can't deal with this," Lester announced. "I need some fresh air." He got up and left the room via the stairs.

I looked to Bobby, who gave me a grim look and got up to follow his partner.

"I don't want to listen to this either," Rafe muttered.

"None of us do," Winter answered as he turned the receiver off.

* * *

Thankfully, I didn't hear what Bailey had to say of her ordeal in Scotland to Danny, but they finally reappeared nearly an hour later, and she looked like hell. After two cups of tea and a couple of pieces of left over garlic bread she called the prison to set up a visit for the day after tomorrow at 2pm. Now she just needed the wire, laptop and personal stuff and she was good to go.

Bobby was gearing up to implant her wire, and Winter and Danny had gone out to test the range of the one he had already. It looked to be water proof as it had survived his shower. Things were falling into place quite well so far – well on the planning side anyway. Still it was never a wise move to get complacent, so we had to keep our guard up and be alert at all times.

Bobby fussed over his supplies one last time. "You okay with this?"

Bailey shrugged. "Looks like I have no choice, so you better just get on with it."

"Okay, what I'm going to do is -"

"Just fucking do it already, Bobby." Bailey seemed to have a bug up her ass since she reappeared.

"Just trying to keep you in the loop, Lee." Bobby said with a weary sigh. "Let me give you the local and then I'll do the implant."

"No."

"Pardon?"

"No local, just do it."

"Shit Lee, it's gonna hurt."

Bailey shrugged again. "So?"

Bobby glanced at me and it was my turn to shrug. If she wanted to play it that way, then it was up to her. Bobby nodded and slid the mic into place while Lee stared at the light fitting. The huge needle disappeared inside Bailey's left ear and the only indication of pain I saw on her face was when her eyes squeezed shut momentarily.

Job swiftly done, we checked everything to make sure it was working, which it was, and Lee went to pack. The sound of her laughter floated over the receiver a few minutes later as she crashed and thudded around her room. "Least you can't hear my internal monologue and the little voices, right?"

I hit the transmit button on the receiver. "Thankfully, no."

Bailey snorted. "Thank the gods for small mercies right, Ric?"

Bobby took the receiver from my hand. "It's a shame, really. I've been wondering recently just what goes on in that head of yours."

"I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you, Bobby," she joked. "Hey, I'm nearly done here, can someone find the tank bag and saddle bags for my bike? They should be in the garage somewhere and they just need fixing to my bike."

"I'll go," Bobby offered as he ventured out the door and down the stairs.

Lee came out of her room and then disappeared into the bath, rustled around, slammed the cabinet door, stomped into the kitchen, and headed for the med supplies box above the sink and cursed.

I poured another cup of coffee and watched her with mild amusement. Testy Bailey was always fun to watch, and in the past I would have baited her until she'd snapped, got into a huge fight with her and then had mad, sweaty sex. Times had changed and I wasn't going to do that to her anymore, so I stuck to simple questions instead. "Problems?"

"I need some med supplies and as per fucking usual, we have bugger all here," she growled.

"What do you need?"

"Ibuprofen, paracetamol and a couple of support bandages, nothing much. I'll bet that nesh bastard, Danny necked the last of the Ibuprofen."

I smiled and had to reign in my words. The urge to bait her was so ingrained that it was hard to hold myself in check. "You mean that poor bastard with a knee injury?"

"He's a baby. You think Bobby will mind if I raid his supplies?"

I shook my head. "Doubt it, he should have enough for an army this time. Box is under the table."

She dragged the huge plastic tool box onto a chair and flipped the lid up, holding it open with her hand, then rummaged about and whistled though her teeth. "Shit, you weren't joking, were you? He's packed for everything bar a nuclear disaster or alien invasion."

"That's probably in a separate box somewhere. Find what you want?"

Bailey bit her lower lip and nodded. "Think so." She stuffed a handful of stuff in a wash bag, packed up her lap top, picked up a small pile of borrowed clothes, pulled her leather jacket on over a long sleeve black tee, two sizes too big and scooped up the tracker for Warwick. "I'm done here so I'll go find Bobby and get moving. You lot following soon?"

"Once Rafe and Les have loaded your Land Rover - fifteen minutes tops. Stay safe, Lee. Remember, we'll be with you all the way." I pulled out a wad of notes and handed them to her. "Winter told me to give you this and to tell you that you need to go shopping for clothes. Says that you need to look like someone's girlfriend for the visit."

Bailey pocked the cash and rolled her eyes. "Cheeky bastard. See you at the rendezvous on Thursday afternoon, Ric."

She grabbed her crash helmet from the coat rack by the door and went down stairs. The mike picked up her brief conversation with Bobby, Lester and Rafe in the garage, and I turned the receiver off when it began to pick up nothing but the sound of her Ducati's engine as she opened the throttle and took off north towards Carlow.

Bobby came back up and fixed himself what must have been his tenth cup of coffee of the day. He went to sit down and looked quizzically at his med supplies box that was still sitting on the chair. "You need something, Ric?"

"Bailey wanted pain pills. Guess that implant was hurting more than she was letting on."

Bobby popped the lid and rummaged about. "Shit!"

I looked over at him, and he was pissed. "What?"

"Did she tell you what she wanted?"

"Ibuprofen, paracetamol and support bandages," I rattled off from memory. "What's wrong, Bobby?"

"So she said nothing about wanting eight vials of morphine and a load of syringes then?"

I shut my eyes and took a deep breath. How could I have been so fucking stupid? She'd got rid of Bobby by sending him to the garage and knew that I wouldn't even think that there was morphine in the box. There was only one reason Bailey wanted that morphine - to get high. Fuck. I'd trusted her… but not anymore.


End file.
